


The Red Speckled Flower

by curvycurlygirly



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Mild canon divergence, Slow Burn, You know the Mage Trevelyan not trusting ex-Templar Cullen trope? It's like that, but not too much, eventual mentions of f!Mage Hawke/Fenris, just a slight tweak to Valo-Kas, more tags to be added later, most of it is in Inquisitor's backstory, only with Saarabas and Ben-Hasrath instead, probably, rating will definitely change later on, there may be slight reinterpretation to some in-game canon down the road
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5430629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curvycurlygirly/pseuds/curvycurlygirly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yasema Adaar never considered herself very religious. The job at the Conclave was just that, a job: stand there and look intimidating enough to make the Mages and Templars think twice before misbehaving, and take care of any problems if anyone tried anything. Now, one mysterious trip through the fade later; she finds herself the center of a holy army, being called the “Herald of Andraste”, closing demon spewing holes in the sky with magic she’s never seen before, and having a Ben-Hasrath agent offering his services as a bodyguard. If there is a Maker, he certainly has an odd sense of humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Dragon Age fic. So nervous haha.  
> Posted without beta, so any and all mistakes are mine alone. Hopefully there aren't many, haha.

Watch them.  
Mages, Templars.  
Nothing bad yet, just glares being thrown back and forth.  
Good.

 

**_Fog._ **  
**_When did all this fog come in?_ **  
**_Shit, what did those Circles do?_ **  
**_Or was it the Templars?_ **  
**_Where is everyone?_ **  
**_Can’t see._ **

Scan the crowd.  
Make sure they know they’re being watched.  
Stand around, look intimidating.  
….Except for when Arvim decides to make a silly face from his post across the room and the mask slips, a laugh escapes.

 

**_Someone.  
Light.  
A body of light._ **

“Shouldn't you be with Kiraz and the rest of your range guys?” Arvim asks when they cross paths during a sweep of the perimeter. He jokingly puffs his chest while twirling one of his daggers in his hand.

“I thought you poor folks might need some magic close at hand. I don’t think that’s going to be much help if some Circle starts throwing fireballs,” she teases, jutting her chin towards Arvim’s dagger.

 

**_Fuuuck what is that?_ **  
**_So many eyes._ **  
**_Too many eyes!_ **  
**_Legs jittering across stone._ **  
**_Coming_ **  
**_Coming for me._ **

Yasema glances back towards the hills where she had ordered the archers and mages into position. Watch from a distance. Take care of problems we might not see.

“Should've just brought Shok, her face would scare any troublemakers to back down,” Arvim jokes.

 

**_Light._ **  
**_Light is safe._ **  
**_Need to be safe._ **  
**_Need to get to body of light._ **

“Remind me to tell her you said that when we get back,” she replies with a laugh, lightly bumping his shoulder with her own as they part ways.

“Very funny, Adaar.” There’s a tremor in his tone. Of course there was. He was worried she meant it. Shokrakar can be scary when she wants to be.

 

**_Everything hurts._ **  
**_So tired._ **  
**_Where is everyone?_ **  
**_Too much._ **

Why did Yasema think it was a better idea to split up, let Shok stay behind to man the rest of the company? She was a lot better at this then Yasema was.

 

**_Shok, I’m sorry._ **  
**_Tell them I’m sorry._ **  
**_Tell them I love them._ **  
**_You should’ve been here._ **  
**_No._ **  
**_Better this way._ **  
**_Take care of them._ **

Something wasn’t right. She could feel it. Not the Mages, or the Templars. Something else. What’s going on here?

 

**_Reaching._ **  
**_Saving._ **  
**_Save me._ **  
**_Light is safe._ **  
**_Need to be safe._ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yasema awakes in a dungeon, just in time to be interrogated about The Conclave and this strange mark on her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically a retelling of the beginning of the game, with lines lifted directly from it included.

Yasema used to have dreams a lot like this. Caught, trapped, chained. Captured.

Sometimes, she had been found by an Avaraad and was about to be "re-educated" on how to be a proper Saarabas under the Qun (or, educated would be more accurate, having never known this way before). Sometimes it was Tal-Vashoth still stuck behind the Qun's way of thinking that she was a dangerous thing. Either way, it'd end the same: mouth sewn shut and made into an obedient magic slinging pet to be kept on a leash. 

There were a few dreams of it being humans. But that was different. That was true, not something her mind invented from all the stories her parents had imparted upon her. Not created from seeing the dotted scars around aunt Sayera's mouth and how that could've been her in another life, a life where everyone had remained loyal to the Qun and Yasema herself mightve been nothing more than a product of breeding selections.

_A little qunari girl pinned on her back, arms tied to the legs of the table. Another tied down not to far away, screaming, cursing. Another little qunari girl, but she wasn't scared like Yasema had been. She was angry, swearing death upon the humans if they dared take another step towards Yasema. The knife cutting into her skin, purple lights striking almost everything in the room, and then nothing._

She hadn't had **that** dream in a very long time. 

 

And now, here she was, chained, caught, surrounded by humans. The pain in her knees and hand told her this wasn't a dream. This was real. And these weren't a pack of heartless mercenaries acting on behalf of some noble that had gotten it into his head that qunari horns were some sort of good luck charm, or tasted good in soup, or whatever it was. It was a really long time ago, she barely remembered anymore. No, these weren't mercenaries. They were chantry forces. She remembered the armor. Remembered seeing them....before....

What was this? Some sort of trap? The Chantry wanting to catch a qunari Mage, shove her into a circle? An experiment maybe? They had humans, and the elves they plucked from alienages. Did they now want to drag a Vashoth Mage into their towers? Were they trying to expand their Mage menagorie? No. There were no circles, that was the whole point of this, wasn't it? The Divine's Conclave. 

The Conclave, with all those people. Mages, Templars, nobles, and....her people. Where were they? Had Arvim and the others been caught by the Chantry too? Where they being kept in other rooms, circled by humans pointing their swords at them just like she currently was? She contemplated demanding answers from the sword bearing humans, but before she could actively decide whether or not to speak, the pain in her hand seemed to pulsate, drawing her attention from her surroundings and back into herself. 

There was definitely something wrong. It felt like magic, but also....not. Or at least, not like any magic she'd ever known or felt before. She knew the feeling of lighting in her hands, fire, and the spirit spells that felt connected to the Fade when she conjured up wisps or traveled in the Fade in her sleep. But this was different. It felt like the the Fade, but more. More direct. More pronounced. And it hurt. Magic never hurt her before, at least not like this. Sure, there were a few times she lightly burned or shocked herself back when she was younger and just starting to learn, but this was different. She couldn't pinpoint how or why, but it just was different. And that scared her. Perhaps even more than the swords pointing at her. Her hand sparked, glowed. She was used to sparks, she loved sparks. Lightening spells had been her primary focus. Sparks were comforting. But not like this. It felt out of her control. It felt too much like the purple lights striking the room as she was tied to the table, and she had never wanted to feel that out of control with magic ever again. It terrified her. 

 

_"Stay back! Don't come any closer! Are they....what did I do?!"_

_"Yas, you're bleeding, just let me-"_

_"Stay back!"_

 

_"Shhh....shh, Imekari Saarabas. It's all right."_

 

 

Yasema was pulled out of the memory by the sound of the door slamming open and two new figures entering the room...dungeon....she was in. Two women, one dressed in soldier's armor with a sword at her hip, the other a Sister of some sort. The Soldier walked forward, straight towards Yasema, with the Sister trailing behind her. As they drew closer, the Chantry soldiers sheathed their swords and stood at attention. Their reaction allowed Yasema to deduce that these two women seemed to be in charge of things. The Soldier circled around Yasema. She was out of Yasema's sight, but she could feel the woman's hard glare on her none the less than if she was standing right beside the Sister, who had come to a stop right in front of Yasema's kneeling bound form.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now," The Soldier spoke from right beside Yasema. She was leaning over her shoulder, her head close to Yasema's horns. For a moment, she wished she was Shokrakar, able to react quickly and fight at the drop of a hat. Shokrakar would've taken advantage of the Soldier's proximity, surged sideways and slammed her horns into the woman's face for taking such a threatening tone. But then again, given the underling soldiers still surrounding her and who could've easily drawn their swords back out if she tried anything, perhaps Yasema simply sitting there frightened and confused was the better option. "The Conclave is destroyed," the Soldier continued to speak, standing upright and pacing out from behind Yasema, who could do nothing except listen to her speak, hoping to get some sort of clue as to what was going on. "Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you." She finally concluded, coming to a stop in front of Yasema.

_What?!_

That bit of information struck Yasema hard, as if the woman had lashed out and punched her in the chest. Everyone? Avrim? Kiraz? The rest of the kith? No...that couldn't be. Yasema felt her gut tighten in anxety at the thought of her friends being dead.

"What do you mean everyone's dead?" Yasema spoke before she could even think to stop herself. Her voice was shaky, fearful. She hated herself for showing her fear to her captors like this, but she couldn't help it. If what this woman was saying was true, her friends were dead. Something or someone had killed them. Killed everyone. And from the looks of it, these people seemed convinced she was that someone or something. She was confused, scared, in pain, she didn't have it in her to try and keep up a brave front. Not now. Instead of answering, the Soldier reached down and yanked her left arm up, the arm that was pulsing with that strange green glowing magic.

"Explain this," she demanded, the mark on her hand giving a pulse at the sudden movement. The Soldier cruelly dropped the arm, as if to make a point. As if this was all the evidence she needed to interrogate and threaten.

"I....can't," Yasema hesitantly admitted. Which was the truth. How could she explain this? She didn't even know what 'this' was! Both the Soldier and the Sister paced around her, unnerving her. No doubt this was their intention. And it worked. With little prompting beyond being asked what she meant, Yasema's words spilled out of her in a rush. "I don't know what that is, or how it got there." The Soldier didn't believe her, lunging forward towards her and gripping her arms, as if she was ready to kill Yasema if she didn't answer correctly. But Yasema couldn't answer correctly, she didn't know what had happened! _  
_

Just as quickly as The Soldier had gripped Yasema, the Sister was stopping her, pulling her companion off of their prisoner. "We need her, Cassandra," she firmly spoke, pushing the Soldier--Cassandra--back and putting herself between her and Yasema. Though Yasema was relieved by the Sister's interventon, and her seeming to attempt to calm Cassandra, it allowed Yasema to sink back and replay Cassandra's earlier words. Everyone was dead. 

"I can't believe it...all those people, dead?" she breathed out. She could feel her throat constricting and tears threatening to gather in her eyes. No, she told herself, willing herself not to cry. It was bad enough these people had seen her frightened and shocked, she wasn't going to let them see her turn into some sniveling weeping child. She was stronger than that, or at least she knew she had to force herself to be.

"Do you remember what happened? How this began?" The Sister spoke, yanking Yasema out of her thoughts. She was grateful for the excuse to shove her feelings down, though she doubted the Sister was forcing her to focus her thoughts out of some sort of benevolance. They wanted answers. 

So many eyes.  
Coming for her.  
Someone.  
A body of light.

A woman?

"A woman?" The Sister asked, sounding genuinely surprised, responding to Yasema's attempts to try and coherently recount what she could remember. From the corner of her eye, Yasema saw Cassandra had resumed her earlier pacing about. Yasema attempted to try and explain what else she could remember, but beyond flashes of the woman reaching out to her, there was nothing. She had just as many gaps in her knowledge as her two interrogators seemed to have.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift," Cassandra spoke as she stepped between the Sister and Yasema, much like what had happened before in reverse. The Sister, Leliana, gazed at Yasema for a few more moments before giving Cassandra a nod and leaving. 

Yasema kept her head down as Leliana left. She heard Cassandra step closer, for a moment she wondered if the woman was going to resume her angry questioning, but instead she saw the human woman crouch before her and unlock the stocks her hands had been kept in. She seemed calmer than she had been before, whether this was due to Leliana's influence or something else, Yasema couldn't say. She simply observed the woman as she bound her hands in some rope, staying still to hopefully convince Cassandra she wasn't some criminal ready to attack. 

"What did happen?" Yasem finally asked once Cassandra finished binding her hands. Something in her tone must have struck the short haired woman. She glanced at her with a look that almost felt like pity. Had Yasema finally convinced her she was innocent? Did Cassandra realize that perhaps people she cared about were among the dead, and she was trying to be sympathetic?

"It will be easier to show you," Cassandra replied as she helped Yasema to her feet. 

 

Cassandra led the way out of the dungeon with Yasema following behind her. Her legs ached with each step she took; her knees feeling stiff from having supported her weight earlier, the circulation still not completely returning to her legs and straining as she forced herself to not wobble as she walked. They walked out into daylight,, Yasema flinching slightly as her eyes had to quickly readjust to the light. As she stepped further outside, she glanced upwards, blinking against the light falling snow, the pale blue sky.

And then, she saw it. Over the mountains, amongst the gray clouds, was....a hole?

It seemed to glow angrily with green light, identical to the light radiating from her hand.

"We call it the Breach," Cassandra explained, drawing Yasema's gaze from the sky. "It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour." The world of demons. The Fade, Yasema realized, her gaze sliding back towards the breach, hoping maybe if she kept looking at it, she could find some answers. Find an explaination as to what it was, and what it had to do with the magic burning in her hand. Unfortunately, there was nothing, just the green glow and Cassandra continuing to speak, informing her that the large hole wasn't the only rift, just the largest, and all had been caused by the explosion at the Conclave.

 "An explosion can do that?" Yasmea asked, both incredulous and mystified by all this.

"This one did," Cassandra replied, stepping closer to Yasema. "Unless we act, the breach may continue to grow until it swallows the world." Yasema opened her mouth to speak, to ask what she meant, but before she could the Breach pulsated, growing, as if on cue. It was as if a projectile came directly from the hole in the sky and hit her hand directly. The pain was unimaginable. Whatever words she had planned to speak were cut off by a wail as her hand burned even stronger than before. Her stiff legs buckled beneath her from the shock of the intensified pain and she was down on her knees again and a few tears she had managed to shove down earlier leaked out. 

She cradled her bound hands closer to her body, staring down at the glow as Cassandra drew even closer, crouching down to once again be level with Yasema.

"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads," she hurriedly spoke, "and it is killing you." Yasema could already tell this mark was harming her, the pain that had brought her to her knees was certainly making her _wish_ for death, but actually hearing the words that it was killing her, made her stomach drop in shock. "It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time." Yasema blinked a few times, letting her brain catch up to what Cassandra was saying through the haze of pain and confusion.

"You say it _may_ be the key...to doing what?"

"Closing the Breach. Whether that's possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however. And yours." Yasema quickly caught Cassandra's meaning at that. She was still being blamed for this, for the explosion, the rifts, the deaths, and it was becoming very clear that things might end badly if she didn't undo what she had done.

 _Well, no pressure_ , Yasema scoffed internally.

"You still think I did this?" Yasema incredulously asked. "To myself?!"

"Not intentionally, something clearly went wrong," Cassandra reasonably stated. Somehow the idea that no, she wasn't perceived as some crazed suicide bomber, just an incompetent one, didn't exactly do much to comfort Yasema.

"And if I'm not responsible?" Yasema asked. Where these people so sure she was the mastermind behind...whatever this was...she would be held accountable no matter what?

"Someone is, and you are our only suspect," Cassandra countered. Yasema frowned, realizing Cassandra had a point. Whatever it was that had happened, she apparently was the only survivor. If Cassandra and her people were as in the dark and confused as Yasema was, what else were they supposed to think? "You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way." 

Yasema breathed in and out a few times, as if settling into her new reality:  
Something had happened.  
There's some sort of unknown magic piercing the sky.  
It's clearly connected to the unknown magic in her hand.  
There was a possibility that the mark on her hand could combat the magic in the sky.  
There was a chance she could stop this Breach from destroying the world.  
Her help was needed.

With that final realization, she knew what she had to do. She thought back to the story she'd heard about how her mother and father met. Both fueled by a snap decision to save another, to help. It was a decision they never regretted, as it led to their being together, having a family, having a life. That had convinced them to impart the pearl of wisdom to their children that to put others before yourself, to do what was needed to help others, was the greatest thing you could ever do.

She momentarily cursed her parents for being good people, and in turn striving for their children to do good, before taking a long deep breath. With that breath, she shoved out her pain, her sadness, her confusion, her fear, everything other than the here and now.

"I understand," she finally spoke. Cassandra's expression read like an open book, she was surprised by the conviction in Yasema's tone, her possible willingness and understanding.

"Then...?"

"I'll do what I can, whatever it takes."


End file.
